


One Long Night in Rohan

by kimuracarter



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Action, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mary Sue, Prompt Fic, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimuracarter/pseuds/kimuracarter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eomer meets a mysterious lady during a celebration. But their night is rudely interrupted by Orcs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Long Night in Rohan

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or its characters. I make no profit from this work of fiction.
> 
> Warning: This is a classic Mary Sue. You have been warned. Now enjoy! ^_~

It had been a long and glorious day. Although Eomer was troubled by the increasing amount of Orc attacks in the area, he temporarily put the thought to rest. The village had opened the tavern to him and his men, welcoming them with food, drink, and song.

And women.

The women of the village had all clustered around him at first, with flowers in their hair and clearly having quickly pulled on their best dresses. But as the evening had progressed, he had made sure that the village people understood the great deeds of each of his men – not one more important than the other.

There were times Eomer wondered if it was unusual for him not to desire to bask in such attention. For whenever it came his direction, he made a concentrated effort to divert it.

The musicians struck up a slow waltz, and Eomer leaned back in his chair, sipping at his ale as he watched his men dancing with the women, surrounded by the village couples young and old.

His gaze was drawn to a woman standing against the wall, near the great fireplace. Her long dark blond hair framed her face, twined with gold threads. The same color was threaded through the bodice of her dark brown dress; she must have put many hours into the work. The firelight reflected off of it brilliantly, highlighting the curve of her bosom. He realized a smile was spreading across his face.

She turned her head, and their eyes met. Her eyes were honeyed-brown, framed by thick lashes. She smiled at him and bowed her head.

Eomer wondered then why any man in full command of his senses would have overlooked this woman when selecting a dance partner. He set his ale aside and strode around the dance floor to her.

Her smile and eyes followed his every step, almost as if they were already dancing.

She bowed as he approached. “My Lord.”

“My lady,” he responded, taking her hand and brushing a kiss to the back. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

She raised her head, and her eyes seemed to nearly glow in the firelight. “It would be my honor, Lord Eomer.” She placed a pale hand on his outstretched arm as he led her to the dance floor. A blush colored her cheeks as his other hand rested lightly on her hip, and her hand went to his shoulder.

The simple one-two-three rhythm of the dance washed over them, and they fell into step easily. Her movements were perfectly graceful and fluid, and Eomer felt himself smiling once more.

She blushed darker still. “My Lord?”

“You dance beautifully, My lady.”

She broke away from his gaze shyly. “Thank you, my Lord.”

The music faltered and then stopped as screams filled the air.

Eomer pulled the woman closer. “You must hide. Take the other women and _hide_.”

“My Lord –“

“GO!”

~~~

The long, glorious day transformed from celebration to hellish night. Townsfolk had scattered to the surrounding woods as Eomer and his men had driven back the Orcs, slaying most of them and scattering the rest.  
Hearing more screams, Eomer grasped a torch and spurred his horse into motion, riding into the woods. His mount splashed through a shallow river.

“Lord Eomer!”

There was a cluster of women from the tavern, huddled next to large boulders. They pointed with shaking fingers down river. Eomer urged his horse onward and tried not to lose heart that his golden lady was not amongst the group.

He spotted a lone Orc down river, covered in its own foul blood and spurred his horse faster. The Orc looked quickly over its shoulder, turned and howled.

Eomer brought his horse to a stop and drew his sword; the Orc was already bleeding heavily from a wound in its thigh. Otherwise, it most likely would have had the good sense to run.

One swing of his sword cleaved the beast’s head from its shoulders. The head skittered along the pebbled shore as the body tipped backwards into the water.

Eomer stared into the water as it quickly turned black in the flickering torchlight. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw a flash of gold.

“NO!”

Eomer sheathed his sword and dismounted, wading into the water and shoving the corpse out of the way. He reached into the now opaque water, winding his arm around a shape and pulling it to the surface.

“My lady!”

Her eyes were closed, and her skin seemed paler than it had been earlier that night. Her lovely hair, face, and dress were drenched in foul black blood. _She attacked the beast herself?!_

Eomer stabbed the torch between the rocks and picked her up in his arms; she coughed up black water. He could see bruises blossoming on her forehead and throat. “My lady,” he pleaded. “Awaken, my lady.” The beast must have fended off her attack and attempted to drown her in the water.

She moaned weakly, and the sound went straight through to his heart. Eomer could hear faint cries of victory from the village.

He laid her down carefully on one of the large boulders and worked to unfasten his armor, jerking off his heavy gloves. Once unfettered, he picked her up again and carried her upstream to shallow pool. His linen shirt clung to his chest as he waded into the water and knelt, keeping her cradled in his arms.

Eomer worked to wash the worst of the blood from her long hair and cleanse it from her fair face, all the while pleading quietly for her to awaken. His heart desired the sight of her beautiful eyes filled with light once more.

He carried her back to his horse, removing his warm wool cloak and wrapping it around her. He took only a moment to set her down again and gather his belongings before setting her on his horse and mounting behind her.

As he they moved up river at a slow walk, her eyes fluttered and blinked open.

“My lady,” he gasped, holding her close.

“My –“ she coughed out. “My Lord …?”

“Shh,” he whispered. “You are safe. I slew the beast. Do not speak; I will return you home.”

Her lovely features relaxed as her head rested against his chest.

He wondered briefly if she could hear his still-pounding heart; it sounded unbearably loud. “How did you wound it, my lady?”

“Dagger,” she answered, her voice still roughened by the water. “Lost it in the water.”

“Your bravery rivals that of my men, my lady.” He wrapped his arm more securely around her as she shivered. He urged his horse to move more quickly.

“Were any lost this night?”

“None to my knowledge. Did you lead the other women to safety?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Eomer smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “Tell me your name, my lady.”

“Marsuewyn, Lord Eomer.” Her eyes opened again, filled with anxiety. “Are they gone?”

Eomer pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Yes, Marsuewyn. You are safe. Rest, my lady.”

She smiled up at him before closing her eyes again, dark lashes fanning against her pale cheek. She drifted into a light slumber as Eomer rode slowly back into the village.


End file.
